Making Small Talk
by Hidden Relevance
Summary: So, walking home alone might not have been my most intelligent decision. Now I'd have to try to stall them. Slightly experimental style- may turn into a longer fic. Post TDK with possible Bats/OC


**Hey check it out! This is my first fic in the Batman Nolanverse. In any Batmanverse really. I had a lot of fun with this style- I haven't allowed myself to write anything quite this stream of consciousness in a while! That being said, any critique you'd like to give would be much appreciated!**

**BTW, Batman doesn't belong to me. I mean, duh: it's been around for over 60 years people...**

In retrospect, walking home alone, in Gotham of all places, might not have been the most intelligent decision I've ever made. After all, until fairly recently, we ranked number one on Leno's 'Top 10 most dangerous cities" for a good 7 years running. Growing up, I hadn't known a single friend who hadn't been affected by the crime rate in one way or another. As I got older, most of those friends and their families eventually got the hell out of Dodge. Me too, truth be told. I'd gone to college out in Texas, having decided that it was about as far from home as I wanted to be, without being all the way across the country. Almost. I'd still be there, if not for the Night the Narrows was Lost (and yes, most of us think of that night in all caps). My mom worked as a nurse in the hospital there, and like so many others, went missing that night and was never found. It had always been just my mom, me, and my little sister. Without anyone around to take care of Angie, what else could I do but go back? Even though Gotham was hell, it was still her home. Considering she was already dealing with Mom's death, I wasn't about to make her move.

Besides, in recent months, the crime rate had flat plummeted. The emergence of the big Bat had put quite a dent in the criminal activity, but it was only a few months ago that everything came to a standstill. Personally, I can't blame the convicts. It must have been bad enough knowing that the Bat would swoop down, kick your ass, and then turn you over to the police, but now--now, we knew he'd kill. According to the newspapers, he'd ruthlessly taken out the bent cops who'd sold out Dent and his girlfriend. Rumor had it that a Bat enraged was not a forgiving Bat. Of course, the rumors also said that he might not have killed them, at all--that someone had seen Dent wandering about after his supposed 'death.' Which was weird on a lot of levels.

No matter which rumors were true, the baddies of Gotham were keeping their heads down. So really, in my defense, I should have been fine going home. I mean, I'm not exactly an idiotic damsel in distress (those don't last long around here). I usually travel with a group; I've taken self defense and kickboxing; I carry mace like a good girl; and if all else failed my steel-toed boots should leave a helluva mark. My boss hated those boots; apparently when tending bar in Gotham's most 'hip and trendy' hangout, a girl's expected to wear heels. Still, considering I quickly became one of her best and most loyal employees (though I've got another day job and only work at Shades on the weekends--I hadn't gotten my master's just to work in a bar of the rest of my life) she'd decided to lay off. Especially after I told her that I was walking most of the way to and from work.

No, there was nothing that should have screamed 'easy target' about me that night, anymore than there was every other night. The only difference was that I was alone. There were actually three of us from my apartment complex that worked at Shades, but Tasha had called in sick, and Mike ended up leaving with some model, and I'd been left on my own. No big deal really; it happened on occasion, but I'd always gotten home safe and sound.

The only thing that I could figure was that whoever the hell the punks were that shot out of that alley, they couldn't be native to Gotham. Not without knowing better than to attack some random stranger in an area that was not the slums. That or they were blitzed within an inch of their tiny little minds. Either way, when faced with six men with violent intentions, I was screwed. The first one got a hold of my hair, jerking me from the brightly lit street into the alleyway. I stumbled hard and groaned. The boots had protected my ankles, but my knee was screaming in pain. As I did my best not to fall, my mind was racing through everything I'd learned in class, trying to come up with anything that might keep me alive as two of them took me by the arms, holding me still.

Force was obviously out. Against one or two, I'd have had a chance, but against six? No way. I'm not exactly an Amazon; I'm only 5'4" and definitely more lean than muscular. My teachers had been honest with me that if I was ever really attacked, I'd need to try to break their kneecaps and then run like hell. I just wouldn't be able to over-power someone. With that in mind, it didn't take more than a moment for me to realize I had to stall the bastards.

"You-you know you really shouldn't be doing this." I grimaced at my stuttering; that wasn't going to inspire fear in anyone. "It's just not exactly safe, ya know?"

One of them, a massive Latino I was guessing was 'in charge,' glared at me. "What the fuck you talkin' 'bout, bitch?" Well that wasn't exactly friendly, but at least it gave me the opportunity to keep talking.

"Well, there's this guy… That I'm sorta seeing." Somewhere in the back on my mind, a voice was asking what the hell I thought I was doing, but I ignored it. "It's not serious, more of a fly by night sort of thing, if you know what I'm saying, but-" The slap was not unexpected considering my babbling, but it still hurt like hell. I shook my head, trying to get my hair out of my face as I met the leader's gaze. It was stony, clearly just wanting me to get to the point. I swallowed and decided to continue. "The thing is—he's really protective, almost a stalker. Showing up out of nowhere, kinda violent, the whole nine yards. It's not a good deal for him to see some random guy with me, you know?"

Another guy, obviously more stoned than the others, actually asked, "Why you girls stay with a guy like that, huh? I don' get it…" He trailed off at the incredulous expressions from his buddies. I was trying not to laugh. Still, he gave me another excuse to babble.

"Ah well. A guy looks that good in black, and a girl will forgive him just about anything." I forced out a laugh, as my captors tightened their grip. This was it. I was officially out of small talk, and the Big Bat had yet to show. Their leader took out a switchblade and leaned in close.

"You know, bitch. You talk too mu-" With a very un-manly shriek, the big man was flung through the air into the alley wall opposite me. Hey look, I told myself, the Bat had arrived. I was dropped rather un-ceremoniously to the ground as the other goons tried to take on the shadowy figure currently slamming the leader's head against the wall. Trying to stay out of the way of the flailing fists and kicks, I huddled against the wall behind me, eyes wide. As brawls went, it was really rather quick. The dark man-bat-thing had moved almost too fast for my eyes to follow, dispatching my attackers in a series of blows that spoke of barely-controlled brutality. In the few moments after, there was a heavy silence; even the battered punks seemed too afraid to draw his attention to even whimper. He turned, and I couldn't help but shudder a little under the weight of his gaze.

"Are you hurt?" The harsh rasp of his voice startled me into answering.

"My knee: I think it's sprained." It was official; I was pathetic. My voice actually trembled more talking to my rescuer than to my attackers. I really didn't want to think about what that said about my psyche.

He moved again, this time to my side, crouching down to run a gloved hand carefully over the knee I was clutching. "You're right. Call the police. They'll-"

"My cell's at home." I mentally cringed at myself. One did not go around interrupting the Bat when he was talking. His pointed stare showed he agreed with my mental voice. Still, he only glanced away, seeming to consider something before he returned to the downed goons and tied them up with brisk efficiency. To my surprise, instead of leaving, at that point, he strode back to me and gently pulled me to my feet.

"Where do you live?"

I blinked at him. "Huh?" Maybe I'd been right about the whole stalker thing. Oh well. My night really couldn't get any worse. "Umm. The Terrace Apartments. It's about 5 blocks down- oh shit!"

He'd wrapped an arm tightly around me and fired some sort of gun off before I knew what was happening. And then, off we went, freaking flying over the rooftops to the apartment. Clinging to him in sheer terror, I wondered when it would be a good time to inform the Bat that I was more than a little afraid of heights. Lucky for me, we arrived on the roof of my building in less that a minute. Any longer and I likely might have done something truly psychotic, like, oh, declaring my undying love for the Bat if he would just get me the hell down. He paused only a moment on the roof, asking me, "Which balcony?"

I pointed to it. "That one on the inner courtyard, with the wind chimes." How he managed to do it, I wasn't sure. But he landed both of us on that balcony without moving a single chime. The dude had some skills; I couldn't deny that one. Setting me down, he moved swiftly to the sliding door and, in a slick movement I couldn't quite see, had it unlocked and opened.

"Now, get inside and call the police." His tone was dismissive as he brushed past me to the railing, so there was really no excuse for what I did next. I reached out and caught his hand, wincing a little as the move threw unexpected weight on my knee. His head snapped around to stare at our clasped hands and then up to my face. I was not at all comfortable with the scrutiny, but hell, I'd already gone that far, might as well go ahead and say what I wanted to.

"Thank you." To my surprise (and almost delight), I felt him squeeze my hand gently.

"You don't have to thank me." He released my hand and jumped up to crouch on the wooden railing. I was sure he'd leave. Instead, he paused and glanced back over his shoulder, lips twitching in a way that on anyone other than a scary costumed Bat might have been mischief. "Do me a favor, though." I raised an eyebrow, utterly baffled. "Just don't tell that stalker boyfriend of yours about me."

This time he did leave, that cloak of his setting the chimes ringing raucously. I just stood there stunned, barely able to notice Angie (in an utterly female panic) asking what had happened from the doorway.

Apparently, the Bat had a sense of humor. Who knew?

**So! I hope you all enjoyed it! I'm tempted to continue this on into a longer fic- would there be any interest if I did? Let me know in a review! (and yes, I'm aware that it was a very very shameless plug lol)**


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